


Snippets & Ficlets

by DovahDoes



Category: The Shrine (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Because what else do Carmen and Marcus do?, Bickering, Bisexual Marcus, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Creature Fic, Humor, Liberal use of google translate, M/M, Or at least an, Or at least semi-seriously, Other, Pre-Slash, Snarky Marcus, again aka. canon Marcus, aka. Snarcus, aka. canon Marcus, amirite?, as in the dude is running around Alvainia, insofar as not everyone in Alvainia is human, non-statue forest demon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahDoes/pseuds/DovahDoes
Summary: A collection of little odds and ends in my big document full of WIPs and short fics.(Unless otherwise stated, chapters are unconnected, separate works.)





	1. Even the Worst Meet-Cute is Still a Meet-Cute  (Marcus/Forest Demon; Pre-Slash)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I summarized/titled this ficlet as 'the demon is in love w/ Marcus crack!AU' in the original document.
> 
> And then I Overthought The Plot, and treated it half-seriously, trying to map out what the town (and its residents) might actually be like if the demon really _wasn't_ the worst guy out there. (Or, more accurately-- what if the whole town wasn't human, and the demon was in the woods as a lengthy time out for being a jerk, lately. Not because of being some Ancient Evil figure or whatever.)
> 
> So yeah. A lot of what Marcus saw (and experienced) was missing context, but somehow, he still ends up with the absolute _last_ admirer he'd ever want.

 

Henryk has just finished making sure that Marcus has his itinerary and travel plans downpat, and the younger man gears himself up to ask the one thing that’s been on his mind over the last few days while he’s recovered.  His breath catches once, silently, as he works to get the handful of words out about the mysterious creature in the woods, and somehow, he sees the other man’s eyes flick up for a moment before widening.  The next moment, he instinctually turns his head to see whatever his companions does, but only manages to catch sight of a large, dark form hurtling down towards them.

 

And then whatever (whoever?) _crashes_ down on top of the truck’s bed and sends fragments of glass exploding everywhere, leaving Marcus reeling from where he’s suddenly sprawled out on the ground being half-sheltered by Henryk’s lean form.  (And _Christ_ how fast is the guy to have pulled him out of the way and also shield him from the majority of the flying debris?)

 

“What the _fuck_!” Marcus yells, utterly panicked and confused, as he scrambles away, feeling multiple little pinpricks of pain, as he encounters bits of glass from the totaled automobile.

 

“Henryk!” he yells, eyes wide, as he pulls himself up against the trunk of tree, “Wh-what  _Who’s_ —is that the _thing_ from the forest?”

 

While the hyperventilating American turns bone white in terror, the Alvainian man who’d just possibly saved his life for the umpteenth time, actually seems to be relaxed, if a bit miffed, climbing to his feet and crossing his arms.

 

The shorter blond huffs a sigh and turns his head, slightly to address the petrified foreigner trying to meld himself into the tree trunk at his back.  The 8-foot-tall fucking _monster_ behind him, meanwhile, gingerly steps off of the ruined pickup truck, which is bowed inward into a half-flattened v-shape, and leans over to help up the hapless villager who’d miraculously escaped the driver’s seat ahead of impact.

 

“ _Yes_ , but _proszę_ , calm down.  That _is_ , uh, ‘thing’ from forest.  But, _yyy_ , there is more to story, Marcus—”

 

At that point whatever the hell the butcher-slash-‘head exorcist’-or-whatever-the-fuck is trying to say proceeds to become _completely_ irrelevant, as the grey-skinned demon not only approaches the Alvainian native, but deigns to ruffle his unstyled mohawk like a waggish sibling.

 

“I—” Marcus utters, breathlessly, mind blanking as klaxons go off somewhere in the fight or flight centre of his brain.

 

The demon’s intense, carmine eyes meet those of the horrified young man on the ground and its slit pupils dilate for a moment, like a cat tracking prey before it pounces.  Any _other_ reason that a person’s pupil might dilate is categorically _not_ on the table for consideration when he is in actual mortal peril, so far as he’s concerned.

 

And then it _speaks_ — its voice surprisingly _normal_ — in a rich, mostly unremarkable baritone.

 

“ _Dzień dobry_ , Marcus,” he purrs, leaning forward.

 

Some kind of mental quota of weird shit must _finally_ be hit, because in the next few seconds, the wayward photographer’s vision tunnels on the oddly concerned-looking demon a few meters away before everything goes very suddenly dark and quiet.

 

*

 

Both males watch as the panicked American abruptly goes limp and tips over onto one side on the nearby grass.  Henryk shoots the taller being an irritated look before crouching down next to the unconscious foreigner to assess him for damages, speaking to the demon in the village’s native language.

 

“I _told_ you to wait until he came back on his own!  Unbelievable…”

 

The menacing figure flicks its leathery wings, briefly, in annoyance.

 

“I _was_ waiting— all the way out of sight, like you said— but then the breeze switched direction and he just smelled so… _so_ -”

 

Henryk makes a face at his old friend and quickly waves off whatever soppy, over-descriptive chatter had been about to spill out. 

 

“ _Ugh_.  Yes, right.  You’ve been talking about him _non-stop_ since after the night at the Zieliński farmhouse.  In _far_ too much detail, thank you.  Now, what do you propose we do with the re-traumatized, human outsider you’ve essentially condemned to at _least_ another month stuck here in Alvainia?”

 

The town’s head butcher stands up and rests his hands on his hips, having assured himself that his new charge is simply unconscious, and will end up no worse for the wear when he again awakens.

 

For a long moment, then, they both look at the lanky young man, awkwardly positioned on his side amongst free-growing grass and flora.  Eventually, the oldest of the bunch scratches lightly at the base of one steadily regrowing horn on his forehead before turning to his shorter companion.

 

“You know… if we can get my old place restored fast enough, I still have a guest bedr—”

 

“Absolutely not!  Not when you’ve declared your intentions to try and bring him around to mateship before your Season starts.  How do you think your Mother would react if she heard about an arrangement so obviously improper?  Because I _know_ she would just _love_ to hear the news about _that_ from you, yourself.”

 

Looking suitably cowed (and a little bit irritated), his friend crosses his arms with a scoff and doesn’t argue when Henryk continues.

 

“ _No_.  He will be staying with Lidia and I until he’s allowed to choose his own fate, again, since you jeopardized that.  Now help me get him inside the shop and upstairs— he’s heavier than he looks.  Must be all the cheeseburgers they’re supposed to like so much, over there…”

 

As soon as he asks for the favour, Henryk realizes how much room he’s left for interpretation, as a breath later, the powerful demon has Marcus gathered up in his arms and is scraping the totaled truck’s bed with the edge of one wing before taking off in the direction of the butcher shop a few minutes away.

 

“Ah.  _Goddamnit_.  It’s going to be a _very_ long 30 days.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Please forgive any wildly inaccurate bits of Polish-- I deeefinitely used google-fu. 

 

 **Proszę** _-_ Please.  [(Polish)]   |   _Pronounced_ _:_   Proh/prauh-shuh

 **Yyy  -** Filler word, exactly like 'um', or 'uh' for English speakers.  [(Polish)]   |   _Pronounced_ : Kind of like 'i' in bit except almost from further back on the tongue, perhaps sometimes approaching more of a 'y' sound as in the very start of 'yes'.  (I have a Polish coworker that says/uses does this, and I didn't really notice it until I was researching what filler sounds someone might use, oddly enough.)

 **Dzień dobry  -** Hello/Good morning.  [(Polish)]   |   _Pronounced_ _:  Jin doe-breh/bray_

 

For anything else, just hit up Google (or try [Forvo](https://forvo.com/) to hear native speakers saying words).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not for my 'main' series for this fandom: I finished writing a fic that takes place in the [Adventures in Alvainia](https://archiveofourown.org/series/922491) universe, and have a few others in the works. Just gotta edit the one that's done, first, and post it up.


	2. Said Another Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be an AU version of the Shrine that takes place somewhere in the U.S. and in the current year (maybe?). So I think the premise was that Alvainia (or its AU equivalent) was one of those small towns kind of way off the interstate that's essentially just residents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the end, Marcus and Henryk were supposed to requite their lust/interest-at-first-sight, and also work together as a team to try and bring down the demon.
> 
> Here's a snippet from the larger, unfinished work.

 

It’s approaching 1:30 in the morning when their motley crew finally finds what looks like a deserted garden labyrinth on the private grounds.  And because of _course_ it would be, the thing features not only _crazy_ tall walls of dense greenery, but also a frankly confusing amount of dense fog that seems to sit above and among the maze in an unmoving cloud.

 

“Kill the spare,” Marcus mutters drily to himself as they traipse around some of the perimeter in search of another opening, so that they can determine if the one they’d spotted immediately had been an entrance or an exit.

 

The thing proves to be absolutely _massive_ , though, so, true-to-form, Carmen gets impatient before they’ve finished mapping out even one full side of it and huffs out a frustrated growl.  She spins around and marches past her friends, who bewilderedly look at one another before turning round to follow her swift march.

 

“I want to go in,” she says, as they approach the corner before they reach what they think is the front of the structure.

 

“Carmen—” Marcus warns, in a chiding tone, jogging a bit to catch up with her as they come around the bend and are just able to spot the entrance in the thick mist that almost completely shrouds it.

 

“No, listen,” she placates, immediately.  “I won’t be in there for long, or go too far.  I just want to see what I can see and maybe get a pic or two.”

 

“Yeah?” he snarks.  “Thought _I_ was here as the photographer?”

 

As always, though, Carmen prefers to end up as the top dog in any shit-giving contest, if framing herself as the victim isn’t immediately available.

 

“So did I, but you’re too fucking scared to walk through some cheap special effects fog and into a cheesy tourist attraction yourself.”

 

They stop a few yards out from the entrance, and Marcus really plants his feet and crosses his arms, trying to glare her into submission.

 

“Am I ’too scared’ to walk into this thing, or am I the only one here with a functioning fucking sense of self-preservation out of the three of us?  That’s poor fucking odds, _Carmen_.”

 

Beside them, Sarah rolls her eyes and opens up what seems to be the camera app on her phone, taking pictures of the entrance, as best she can while her older coworker and her ex start careening toward a domestic she’s shocked they didn’t already have earlier, in the car.

 

“You see?” his on-again-off-again girlfriend grits out.  “ _This_ is why I couldn’t just tell you outright that this thing’s off the record.  You have to make _everything_ about you coming out in the best light: first, I’m not paying _you_ attention enough compared to my professional career, _then_ Sarah and I are only using you on this trip, and _now_ you’re making it look like I’m just a straight up _idiot_ for coming here!”

 

And here they go again— her starting to pull out the victim card that’s always up a nearby sleeve in any conversation.  _Ugh_.  Marcus closes his eyes and inhales once before letting out he air in a ‘whoosh’ of breath that does little to bring him back down to a reasonable level of calm.  Still, he speaks in a measured tone as best as he can.

 

“Okay, are we _actually_ doing this, right here?  Fine.  I’m trying to come out ‘in the best light’, I’m trying to come out of this fucking _alive_ , alright?  I’m not rehashing the same fight of whether or not you ever actually put your all into a relationship when it competes with your job, because right now, we _aren’t even together_.  You asked me here _as a friend_ , remember?

 

“Which is why I got so _pissed off_ when I found out you and Sarah asked me here in a professional capacity.  That kind of shit _hurts_ , Carmen, and it’s kind of shitty you let Sarah think that I knew anything about this ‘rogue assignment’ you guys are on.”

 

Expecting the younger woman to chime in, Marcus turns toward her suddenly distant figure just in time to see her double-tap her phone screen and turn on the flashlight function.  The beam points in front of her, and casts her as a silhouette for a moment before she steps forward into the mass of inwardly churning, opaque mist.

 

“Sarah?” he calls out, hopefully, before tilting his head back on his neck and looking up into the almost moonless sky with a groan.  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

 

His ‘scooby senses’ are tingling, again, and he turns back to Carmen who simply shoots back a blasé look before turning back to whatever first-hand account about this area that she’s been carrying around all day.

 

He’s not saying that Carmen and her fellow journalist planned that little distraction to let her slip into the labyrinth, but out of all three of them, Sarah _is_ the only noted adrenaline junky and enthusiastic adventurer.

 

“Carmen…”

 

Dark eyes look up at him, and she lifts one quelling hand, finally tucking away the little leather-bound notebook that seemed to have been of much more interest than her coworker almost literally vanishing in front of their very eyes without so much as a by-your-leave.  She sighs once, thankfully pulling back on the longsuffering tone he knows she wants to express, before settling with a cajoling, wheedling tone.

 

“Marcus, come _on_ : it’s _2018_ in a rural county, not a summer camp in the 1970s populated by stupid teenagers.  We’re a group of millennials with both common sense—” she doesn’t react to his snort or raised eyebrow,”— _and_ fully charged cell phones that have excellent coverage.  _We’re fine_.”

 

And then Sarah screams.

 

“Sarah!” They both yell.  Carmen in more of an inquiring manner, and Marcus is a far more alarmed one.

 

The, because all of his worst dreams are coming true, today, his ex-girlfriend (current shitty friend) dart forward and straight into the maze without any further interaction, warning, or words.

 

“Car—!” he starts, futilely, before realizing that she certainly won’t be listening, whether out of sheer stubbornness or because of environmental factors.

 

For better or for worse, he’s left standing alone, with no idea of what’s happening.

 

“ _Fuck_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a few false starts here and there, for the beginning of this fic, but I never got to nailing down the rest of plot in its entirety, so this partially written out work will likely remain in limbo forever.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> *
> 
> Come check out [my writing blog](https://dovahdoeswrite.tumblr.com/), where i post early fic snippets and keep you updated on what i'm working on in what fandoms!
> 
>    
> Kudos and comments are love: feel free to leave me some, kind readers~. (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


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